Sociopath
by order.golden.beak
Summary: In which Sherlock is not a sociopath.


_Sociopath_

"You're not a sociopath."

_Silence_.

They were sitting in the flat.

"I mean, you must know that. You being," a pause, a gulp, a glance downward, "you."

_More silence_. Not like the doctor hadn't grown accustomed to that.

John in his chair, Sherlock on the couch with a blank expression and his hands tucked in prayer position under his chin.

"Sherlock, are you listening?"

A sigh.

The rain outside beating on the window.

"Right, then."

"Curious, the indentation on the man's wrist," his deep voice filling the room after many hours of its absence.

John did not feel the need to respond to this. Whatever it was the consulting detective was muttering about, he did not understand and did not have much of an urge to be insulted as a result of announcing his lack of comprehension. So instead he let the silence – the piercing, damnable silence – persist.

"You're an army doctor, John, not a psychiatrist or a psychologist. I strongly recommend you keep your medical opinions within the bounds of your own expertise."

"What?"

"You said I wasn't a sociopath."

"You're not."

"I am."

John grabbed his computer and began typing in a search bar. "And who told you that, then?"

"Self-diagnosis."

"Well, Sherlock, you were wrong."

"I'm hardly ever wrong, especially in matters directly and specifically concerning myself and my brain."

"Callous unconcern for the feelings of others," John began, "Disregard for social norms and social rules."

"I'm well aware of the symp-"

"Unable to create lasting relationships," the doctor ignored him, "but with ability to form them with relative ease. Violent or aggressive behavior. Inability to experience guilt. Blaming things on others instead of excepting responsibility for your actions. You ne-"

"To fit at least three of those criteria," Sherlock interrupted. "Which I do."

"No."

"Yes."

"Would you like me to go through the list?"

"By all means, _Doctor_ Watson."

"Okay then, let see. Blaming things on other people and-"

"You're going backwards."

"Is that a problem?"

"No," his eyebrow twitched. "Continue."

"You're quite responsible, Sherlock. With accepting consequences for your actions, anyway. Most of the time. Of course, you could stand to be more responsible in your own affairs, like trying to eat at least once a day. But that certainly wouldn't indicate that you're a sociopath."

_I don't eat while on a case. Digestion slows me down_.

"John, I- "

"No, let me finish. Second, inability to experience guilt. Okay, well maybe this one a bit. But one of these symptoms does not a madman make! And besides, there was that one fiasco with Molly at Christmas… You were quite apologetic about that. Didn't change your behavior much," John considered, and then started on the list again. "Violent or aggressive behavior… Well, I suppose the American you repeatedly threw out a window may argue with me on this one, but I personally think you're typically very calm."

_Sherlock whipped around and slammed his head into the man's skull_ _before turning back to a sniveling Mrs. Hudson_.

"John-"

"Inability to maintain long lasting relationships. Well, that's just ridiculous. I mean, look at you and I, then! And you and Mrs. Hudson, and Lestrade even. And here, it says that sociopaths can create friendships with ease. We know that's certainly not true, don't we?" John had to smile a bit at his comment.

"Listen-"

"Not until I'm done. Disregard for social norms and social rules. What, you've only been arrested three, four times? That's not nearly that bad! And you, you wear modern clothes and what not. I'd say society wouldn't look at you and just decide to shun you for not conforming or anything. Not by just a look, at least."

_That's not what people normally say._

_Well what do people normally say?_

_Piss off_.

"I ca-"

"And lastly, unconcern for the feelings of others. I've undoubtedly found myself thinking that you didn't even know what feelings were, Sherlock, but you," here the doctor paused and thought, "you do care, you know. Maybe. For some people. A little."

_Your lips are far too… small, now._

"God, John, would you j-"

"So you're not a sociopath. Just an arrogant git with a weird fetish for murders."

Sherlock did not try to insert himself in the conversation here. Just looked straight ahead, trying to ascertain whether or not he should recite the monologue he had just written in his head.

"You know the different between a sociopath and a psychopath, I presume?" he finally asked.

John nodded. "Well yes, of course."

"Then you would know that a psychopath has disorders due to genetic or psychological abnormalities, and a sociopath would primarily find his problems as a result of social…" he trailed off.

_Damaged_. Irene Adler's words echoed in his head. _Damaged…_

"What are you getting at, Sherlock?"

_Silence_.

"I'm not a sociopath."

"You're not a sociopath?"

_There's nothing wrong with me!_

"No."

A pause.

"Care to explain? You were a sociopath five minutes ago," the doctor smirked. "Was my evaluation tantamount to that of a psychiatrist?"

Sherlock's eyebrows pushed together, forming a crease along the bridge of his nose.

"This won't come as a shock to you, John, but I never had the easiest time making friends as a child."

And then there were Sebastian's words, playing in his head. Sebastian's face, grinning. John sitting next to him in a bank office. _We hated him_, Seb laughed.

He was silent for four minutes, and he spoke again.

"I found them boring. It's not that I… that I wanted acceptance. But it wasn't the easiest thing." At this point, John was completely appalled that Sherlock had begun to talk about himself. Stunned into silence, he allowed Sherlock to continue uninterrupted. "I needed a crutch. So I told people I was a sociopath and… and…."

Sherlock looked down, observing the floor with great intensity.

"Sherlock?" John questioned apprehensively.

"They," he began slowly, "they would – people tend to – kept away from me. Didn't talk to me, but didn't ridicule me either. Not quite as much, anyways."

Sadness flashed in his eyes and then disappeared into the usual analytical stare.

_Silence_.

John drew in breath. "Well, I know you're not a sociopath. And I think you're brilliant. And you're my friend."

Sherlock's eyes softened and his gaze left the carpet to look directly at the doctor. He did not speak but hoped that his face would express whatever ordinary people would convey in words.

_Thank you, John_.

First Sherlock fic. Please review and leave suggestions, thank you! Over and out.


End file.
